Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ramb never meant to stumble upon that crystal, never meant to learn about the things he did as a result of that crystal.

It happened by mistake, but the things he's seen, though not many, have changed him indefinitely. He can't go back to how he used to be, even if he wanted to— and he wanted nothing more than that, nothing more than to live in ignorant bliss like those around him did. It was all that angel-damned crystal's fault. If only he had never seen it that fateful night. If only he had never picked it up, then maybe he would've been fine. Then, maybe, he wouldn't have isolated himself from the rest of the world. Perhaps, he would've adjusted to the TV dark world, started acting like the others, and made friends. He could've gotten his peers to like him even.

But no...

He didn't leave that crystal alone. He didn't ignore it when he first saw it a few months ago. His damn curiosity got the better of him— and, you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat, and all... or dog, in this case. No, there was no going back now. Because Ramb just had to pick up that small, see-through shard of glass. He just had to look through it after getting the sudden, unbearable urge to do so. And he just had to keep looking through it after he saw what he did, after it began to reveal its secrets. 

He couldn't look away, not when it began telling him about the prophecy.

The prophecy, the legend of the Delta Rune. The prophecy the lightners and darkners knew was vague at best, and conflicting at worst. No one knew how the tale ended, and most of the words were lost to time in the light world, their meaning forgotten in the dark world. Over time, lightners and darkners made their own conclusions about what it said. Tales about their Angel, about the terrible calamity said to occur. Hypotheses about the fate of the worlds emanated from lightner to lightner, darkner to darkner. Some were optimistic and others not so much, but no one had a real answer when it came to the prophecy's finale.

Naturally, when the crystal Ramb had found backstage after a long day of helping Tenna with his show began to reveal the true words of the prophecy, of things that had already happened and things that would come to pass, Ramb got curious. Maybe the crystal knew something he and everyone else didn't. It wasn't all that logical, but Ramb never regarded himself as much of a logical being anyway. He kept the crystal, and as the weeks went on, more and more events were told through that shard of glass. Things that went from normal to unnerving to downright concerning.

Ramb didn't want the knowledge he had slowly been gaining from the crystal; he was never meant to know what he did now. No one was supposed to learn all about the fabric of their own reality after all, the very things that made their world tick. Yet, there he was. Learning all about the cosmic horrors of their universe day by day. And it freighted Ramb immensely. Maybe that's why he started prodding and poking around to see what others knew, digging into other darkners' secrets to find as much information as possible.

That's how he found out about Mike, and, subsequently, Battat's involvement in the "darkner's" existence.

Ramb hadn't meant to find out, as per usual, but when Battat—one of the only regulars of his little bar—violently corrected himself after making a joke about their shared coworker Mike, all Ramb could see was a secret to be uncovered. A poorly kept secret at that. Ramb just had to investigate; he just had to know what Battat was hiding. That's when he stumbled upon it: Mike's room. Although it clearly wasn't that anymore, no. It was a full-on conspiracy room, with a board and a dimly lit desk in the far corner. And in the middle of it, passed out on the ground—probably from sleep deprivation—Ramb found Battat.

Battat had been a part of Tenna's production team for years at that point, so Ramb guessed it made some sense for him to be here, but what didn't make sense was the costume that looked an awful lot like "Mike" himself lying right next to him. Ramb put the story together quite quickly after that discovery. It wasn't what he was looking for necessarily, but it was very, very interesting all the same. He wasn't sure why Battat was pretending to be Mike, but if Mike was missing, then he supposed it made sense. The conspiracy board in the far corner of the room certainly helped Ramb come to the same conclusion about Mike that Battat had come to.

Ramb began to see the pippins in a different light after that discovery. After all, someone as conspiracy-obsessed as Battat would probably be able to help Ramb out a little, right? Maybe, if they got to be friends, they could help each other out. Sure, maybe Ramb's reasoning for wanting to get close to the green pippins was a tad selfish, but he did like Battat as well. The green pippins was one of the only darkners who regularly talked to him, after all. Maybe a friend was all Ramb needed, someone to help lessen the burden of the secrets he was forced to bear. Someone who he could not only talk to, but who could help him figure it all out as well.

Maybe that's why, when Battat slipped up on a late night and almost told Ramb of his secret, yet again, while he was half falling asleep, Ramb decided to use it as an excuse to get closer to him. The poor guy was clearly in shambles trying to conceal his secret identity, and in all honesty, Ramb was a little bit concerned for the pippin's sanity and mental well-being. Battat was constantly sleep-deprived, angry, clearly overworked, and addicted to caffeine, since it's all he ordered from Ramb. If Ramb could help him realize that, maybe he would start caring for himself more. If Ramb showed that he cared about Battat, the two of them could get closer and bond over their shared secrets.

Maybe Battat needed someone to help with his secrets, too.

Maybe they needed each other.

Battat had been casually talking to Ramb one day at the bar, a few hours before he had to prepare for a shift as "Mike". He only really talked to Ramb because he could see how lonely the guy was, and because he was one of the only vendors who served coffee close enough to the studio, and angel-be-damned it was some pretty good coffee as well. That and the fact that Ramb was one of the only darkners who would listen to his constant ramblings, and maybe Battat liked talking to him because of that, not that he'd ever tell Ramb that, though. 

After finishing his drink, his second cup of coffee of the day, because Angel knew he needed it, he began to walk away, but stopped dead in his tracks when Ramb all of a sudden spoke up and shattered Battat's whole worldview with a simple sentence.

"And hey, Battat? Good luck with production tonight, ya know, with the whole Mike situation and all. Do tell him I said hi, won't you?"

Battat froze and stared at the knowing smirk on the plugboy's face with an incredulous expression.

He knew... There was no other explanation. How could he possibly know? He had been so careful about the whole Mike situation... 

After getting over the initial shock of the statement, the pippins surveyed the room to see if anyone else heard what Ramb said. Luckily, it was only them in the green room right now, so his secret was relatively safe—for now. He, then, stormed over to the bar, grabbed two fistfuls of Ramb's purple button-up, and pulled them ever-so-slightly up. Ramb had been pretending to clean a glass cup as they waited for Battat to regain his composure, but they were now knowingly smiling down at Battat once again.

"What do you know, and how?" Battat whispered.

Ramb shrugged nonchalantly, not caring about the frantic, paranoid, and slightly aggressive tone of Battat's voice or his threatening body language. It seemed as if they weren't scared of Battat at all—which was a slight sting to the pippin's ego, not that he'd ever admit that out loud— and just simple pointed to a door behind them as they lowered their voice and muttered, "You know, I'd love to spill the beans right here and now, luv, but I'm fairly certain you wouldn't want anyone else hearing all about your 'lil secret, now, would ya?"

Battat's grip on Ramb's shirt loosened at the thought of other darkners hearing about his secret and wilted. He let go of the plugboy completely and gave a curt nod as Ramb straightened out his shirt while staring at him inquisitively. Ramb then stepped back, grabbed the handle of the door behind him, opened it, and walked through, leaving Battat alone in the empty green room. Battat then rushed over to the S-Rank changing room door and made his way inside, ensuring no one was following him first. Luckily, no one was around to stop him from getting into the S-Rank room, though no one would, since he's always been allowed backstage due to being on Tenna's production team years before his whole "Mike" thing.

Once backstage, he spotted Ramb, casually leaning against a doorframe to a room darkners rarely visited anymore. The old game controller room. The room had been abandoned once Asriel disappeared, and Kris stopped playing games as often as they used to. The door was usually locked, but apparently Ramb had a key. As soon as the plugboy saw Battat, he waved him over and stepped inside. Hesitantly, the green pippins followed. Inside the room was a wall of controllers and a TV screen. To the left of the screen was another small room with a similar screen to the main room that Battat could only barely see from where he was standing, and to the right was a lone manhole leading to a room no one was allowed to visit anymore.

Battat finally turned to Ramb, folded his arms, and grumbled, "Alright, spill."

"Well, there ain't much to spill, you kinda did that all by yourself, luv. Twice actually..." Ramb chuckled softly.

Battat blinked in confusion. All he could say to that was, "What?"

Had he? Had he actually let his secret slip on accident? Twice no less? Surely not. He would know if he had. He'd remember if he accidentally told someone, especially someone as secretive and mysterious as Ramb, about the whole Mike situation, wouldn't he? He would, right? His memory wasn't that bad all of a sudden, was it? He knew sleep deprivation wasn't great for the brain, but it could've gotten that bad, that quickly, could it? Could it? Oh, angel... Had the sleep deprivation from having to constantly be at Tenna's beck and call, both as Mike and as himself, along with his personal mission of trying to find the real Mike, affected his memory and critical thinking skills that horrifically?

Another chuckle from Ramb snapped Battat back to reality, "You actually don't remember, do you? Hm, well, I guess that's not really your fault, innit? Being as tired as you constantly are really does do a number on someone, eh, luv?"

Battat shook his head, desperately searching his mind for the memory as he mumbled, "Did I actually tell you everything? What!? When!? I-I don't remember saying a damn thing, let alone doing it twice, apparently!"

"Well, the first time was a few days ago, and the other was just yesterday, actually. Though you didn't say that you were Mike, exactly... All you did was give a hint of what you were hiding before you caught your mistake and corrected it. But, it was enough to cause me to be suspicious." Then, Ramb shrugged and added, "And well, someone with their own secrets can spot others' secrets just as well. I have a keen eye for seeing in the dark, so to speak. All I did was put the pieces together and come to my own conclusion..."

"You have a... what? Seeing in the dark? What does that even me—?" Battat questioned.

Ramb cut him off, flashing a teasing smirk as he added, "Besides, leaving the door to your biggest secret open when you pass out in there isn't exactly the brightest thing to do, luv. That and your reaction to my accusation told me everything I needed to know. You're quite the open book, Greenie~"

Battat grimaced in embarrassment as he looked away, processing what Ramb had said a moment before poking fun at him. Now that Ramb said it, he does remember slipping up a few times, but he didn't think Ramb would've cared enough to go searching for his secret. He eyed the plugboy, trying to decipher the odd wording at the end of his explanation, wondering what he could've meant by "seeing in the dark" and "having his own secrets". After a moment, Battat shook his head and added, "Whatever. Listen, just— Please don't tell Tenna about this, okay? This whole thing was my idea to get Tenna off our backs now that Mike and that little mailman aren't around anymore. He's been insufferable to all of us ever since they both up and left..."

Ramb smiled, "I'm good at keeping secrets, so, no worries there, a'right? I'm not gonna tell anymore, especially not Tenna. Honestly, it's probably for the best you keep pretending to be Mike anyway. Tenna has been a lot happier since then, after all. I would just recommend being more careful in the future, yeah? That way, folks like me don't figure it out. You could start by sleeping a bit more often, eh, luv? It's not exactly hard to see that you don't do that enough when you 'bout half fall asleep at my bar almost every day, ya know..."

Battat grimaced, "Yeah, yeah. I guess I probably should, huh? Ugh, as if I don't hear that enough from Pluey and Jongler... But, uh, thanks, I guess... for keeping my secret... And, uh, I'll keep that advice in mind..."

Just as Battat was about to leave, Ramb nodded and moved to block the way as he added, "Ya know, maybe getting some help with the whole Mike thing is something you should think about. There's gotta be someone out there who could help ya out without spilling the beans about Mike's disappearance. It is tough having more than one identity at once, innit? And if ya ever need to talk, I'm all ears. So, don't be a stranger, now, okay?"

Battat watched Ramb point to his dog-like ears, laugh, and leave the room. Battat mulled over Ramb's words once again. He genuinely considered the idea as he tried to piece together what Ramb meant about secrets and double identities. Why did it sound like he knew what having two identities entailed? Did he have a secret identity no one knew about? Was he Mike!? No... he couldn't be. But if Ramb wasn't Mike, what else could he mean by that? It had to be something about Ramb having another identity, and who else could that be aside from Mike?! What if he really was Mike, and Battat had been looking at the wrong darkners this whole time?!

This was a lot to think about, and he had far too little time to do so today. He still had a shift as Mike to get ready for. But maybe having some help with the whole fake-Mike situation would be good for him. If he was going to try to figure out who Mike was and why he left all of a sudden without a word, he would need someone to help him keep on top of the work of being Mike in the meantime. Maybe even multiple someone. Surely, he knew of a few darkners who would be willing to help him...

Now that he thought about it, yeah, he knew just the darkners for the task!

He needed to figure out who Mike was after all.

And what Ramb's whole deal was as well...

Battat came to find out that Ramb was even more secretive than he originally thought.

He actually found out a lot of things about Ramb. He was the quiet bartender who gave sage advice to those willing to listen, advice that always seemed to work out for those who did. Even though he had a good amount of customers, Ramb was even more alone than it seemed. He didn't fit in, since he was originally from Cyber World. Almost everyone who spoke to him thought he was weird and off-putting from time to time. He didn't have any friends, and the only darkners he spoke to regularly were Tenna, Battat, and a rare few regulars at his bar, like this particular pippins who seemed to hate everything and everyone.

It was a little sad, in all honesty, and it reminded Battat of himself and his friends. Battat was popular, but not in a having-many-friends kind of way. He was only as well-known as he was due to being a long-standing, semi-important part of Tenna's backstage crew. Other than that, he was an outcast, a social refugee. He only had two real friends, Pluey and Jongler, and only spoke to them, Ramb, and Tenna on a nearly daily basis. Battat didn't like the other pippins, and he didn't think he was well-liked by them either. On top of that, Jongler and Pluey were outcasts just as much as Battat was. So, in a way, Ramb and him were similarly lonely.

But unlike Battat, who at least had Jongler and Pluey, Ramb had no one.

Perhaps, that's part of the reason why Battat started trying to get to know Ramb more—that and the whole Mike situation, obviously. He quickly ruled Ramb out of the Mike suspects, despite how secretive he was. It was clear that whatever he was hiding was far beyond the whole Mike thing. Still, Battat was determined to figure out what Ramb's whole deal was. He felt a kinship between them that he just couldn't explain. Ramb was fun to talk to, even if he was sometimes unnerving, like others said. The plugboy actually listened to Battat's crazy theories instead of staring at him with concern, like Jongler and Pluey sometimes did. Battat was curious about Ramb and about how alike the two of them were, both in friend quantity and with their mutual lack of self-care.

Another thing Battat had learned was that Ramb was a casual flirt.

Alright, maybe flirt was the wrong word. Charmer worked better, perhaps. Ramb was charming, despite the somewhat off-putting nature. He was the stereotypical idea of what a bartender was like, similar to one you'd see on television. He was wise, caring, and friendly. He always seemed to know exactly what to say, exactly what others needed to hear in that moment. Worse of all, he always seemed to know things that were nearly impossible for him to know, as if he could predict the future. It was as if he knew about future events that he shouldn't otherwise be privy to.

Ramb used his charm whenever necessary— And, when it wasn't, much to Battat's dismay. He had charmed his way into Battat's mind, and whenever the pippins wasn't thinking about his jobs or his crushes— friends- his friends Jongler and Pluey, his thoughts would default to the plugboy and all of his mysteries. Ramb could always get him to talk, even when he was tired or being overly paranoid. Which was exactly what happened after he had a particularly unnerving experience one night with a creature he had never seen before.

Battat had been travelling home from the purple cliffs one night after finishing up a task Tenna had given "Mike". He had been grumbling about the whole thing since it was the middle of the night, and there was no one around to hear him complain. That's when he heard a noise, some kind of scratching sound. He stopped and looked around for the sound. For a brief moment, when he turned his head left and right, he thought he saw something in the corners of his vision. It looked like a tail, made up of a line of circles and a sharp, pointy tip that looked like a devil's tail. Panicked, he continued to turn around frantically as he tried to see who was there.

That's when he suddenly came face-to-face with it.

There appeared on the path in front of him a large black, cat-like darkner— No, not a darkner, but something else. It had no discernible body shape; it was just a large, black, amorphous being that fluttered strangely in and out of shape. Its tail was the only part of it that didn't ungulate like the rest of its body did. It had one yellow eye and one pink one, and they both stared deep into Battat's very heart and soul, but that wasn't the worst of it. The worst, most unnerving part was the creature's terrifying smile. Its smile was wide, unnaturally so, and no doubt full of malice and a sinister type of mischief.

Just as soon as Battat saw it, did it then disappear. Battat screamed and fell backwards before scrambling to his feet and running for his life. Once he was in the relative safety of his apartment, he attempted to rationalize what he had seen. However, no matter what he tried, he just couldn't get that thing's smile out of his head. He didn't sleep at all that night, though, that wasn't all too unnatural for him, considering he didn't sleep well most nights anyway. He shambled about his tasks the next day, which eventually brought him to a familiar bar.

Ramb could immediately tell something wasn't right with Battat, but thankfully, he didn't ask. Instead, he gave Battat his usual, a black coffee, and left him to his thoughts. After a while of sitting alone in silence, Jongler and Pluey showed up, and Battat put his best face on for them as they sat beside him, talking with him and Ramb for a few hours. They did help calm Battat down a little, but eventually they had to leave. The two of them waved goodbye, telling Battat they'd see him tomorrow. As much as he cared about them, he couldn't tell them about what he saw. He didn't want to worry them, and if what he saw was real, then he couldn't endanger them.

As soon as they were gone, Ramb finally spoke up, "Alright, what's up with you tonight? You a'right? Cuz, ya don't look so good, luv..."

Battat turned to him and nodded, "I'm... Fine."

Ramb gave him a small, knowing look, "Uh-huh, sure, mate. Even your little friends couldn't cheer you up, so c'mon. What's wrong, Battat?"

The pippins' face flushed bright green at the teasing remark, waving Ramb's smirking face away as he mumbled, "Shut up, jerk. And it's nothing... Not really. I-I was probably hallucinating, anyway..."

Ramb blinked in surprise, "Mate, is the sleep deprivation getting that bad?"

Battat grimaced, "No, no! I— Maybe? Ugh, okay, it's just... Yesterday, I think I may have seen something I shouldn't have? I was out there in the purple cliffs, just going home, but I heard something. And then, I saw something for a brief second in front of me. It-It didn't look real. It looked like it was ripped straight out of my nightmares... I don't even think I could describe it if I tried, to be honest. But, I don't know if I actually saw it or not, or if it was just my mind making shit up to scare the hell outta me..."

Ramb hummed and said, "Draw it."

"Huh?"

Ramb playfully rolled their eyes and reached into the pocket of their apron, pulling out a small notepad before giving it, and a purple pen, to Battat as he repeated, "Exactly what I said. Draw it. Draw what you saw if you can't describe it. Maybe I've seen it and can confirm whether what you saw was real or not. Just give it a try, yeah?"

Battat slowly grabbed the pen and sighed, "Fine... But don't blame me if I can't draw it properly. 'M not exactly an artist..."

He tentatively began to draw the creature he had seen last night. Just drawing it made him uncomfortable, and he hoped for his and everyone else’s sake that Ramb didn't recognize it. Just let that... thing be a figment of his sleep-deprived imagination, something his mind made up to make him more paranoid than he already was. Or let it be some random darkner he'd never seen playing a prank on him or something. As he finished up the, albeit quick and messy, drawing, he hoped he would make his point across well enough. He wasn't exactly an artist. Well, not the traditional pen-to-paper kind of artist— he was much better at sewing, costume making, and prop design as art forms.

"There..." Battat said as he pushed the notepad back to Ramb.

Ramb picked it up and stared at it for a few minutes before mumbling, "I... I think I've seen this thing before, actually..."

The pippins froze, surely, he had misheard. That creature couldn't be real. There was no way. It didn't look like any darkner he'd ever seen before in his life. It didn't move or look like a real darkner, or even a lightner for that matter. It appeared and disappeared before his very eyes like something you'd see in a nightmare or a horror movie. How could that thing be real and not just his mind running wild?

"W-What? Wait, really? Where?!"

Ramb shrugged, "I saw it in a game I was working on... Thought it was a glitch, but if you saw it, it must've been a real thing..."

Blinking out of his stupor for a moment, Battat asked, "Wait, what? A game? You made a game? Or were you just working on one?"

With a chuckle, Ramb looked away, "Maybe~"

"Wait, which question are you an—"

Ramb cut him off, "Anyways, I definitely saw that thing, no doubt. It showed up for a moment and disappeared as soon as I locked eyes with it. I thought I was seeing things too, but if you saw it in person, it must be something. No idea how it got into the game, but... yeah..."

Ramb and Battat were quiet for a moment, both of them thinking about what they saw. Battat wasn't looking forward to going to bed tonight. If he ever got to fall asleep, he was going to be seeing that thing in his dreams, no question. Maybe he should just stay up again, work on the whole Mike board instead... Mike... Oh, angel above. What if that thing was Mike! No, no... It couldn't be! That creature was some eldritch being, not some darkner like Battat or Ramb. It... It couldn't have been Mike... Right? But what if that's why Mike disappeared? What if something horrible happened to him that turned him into... that thing?

Will that happen to him, too, if he—

"I wonder if I could get it to show up again..." Ramb mumbled, mostly to himself.

His words snapped Battat out of his thoughts, and he blinked and shook his head slightly, "What?"

Ramb shrugged, "I haven't touched the game since I saw it. Maybe... Maybe it'll show up if I work on it again. I doubt it, but it's worth a shot, innit?"

Why would Ramb want to see that thing again? Was he crazy?

"Actually, would you like to see it if I got to show up again in my game?" Ramb suddenly, excitedly asked before blinking, shaking his head, and adding, "Ah, wait. No, sorry. You were obviously not all too happy to see that thing... So never mind. Sorry about that—"

"I would." Battat blurted out, surprising both Ramb and himself.

Why did I say that!? Battat screamed at himself as Ramb stared at him, his face turning green with embarrassment.

"Huh, you actually..." Ramb turned away before giving a satisfied little hum and adding, "Alrighty, then. Tomorrow, after your shift, come backstage, yeah? Game controller room. No one goes back there anymore, so we'll be able to use it, no problem. Trust me, I've done it many times before. Alright, luv?"

Battat nodded, "Yeah, I... I'll be there."

The plugboy smiled and leaned over before saying, "Great! See ya then, greenie~"

Battat flushed at the nickname and quickly waved Ramb away while mumbling, "D-Don't call me that..."

"Awh, why not? You are green, aren'tcha, luv?" Ramb chuckled as he leaned back and put his hands behind his back with a cheeky smile.

"Yes, but— Ugh, whatever. I'm leaving now. So, goodnight, Ramb. See you tomorrow or whatever..." Battat grumbled as he stood up, grabbed his coffee cup, brushed his poncho off, and adjusted his tie.

When Battat looked at Ramb, he saw the plugboy cover his mouth and giggle softly. He noticed how Ramb's voice was a slightly higher pitch than normal for some reason. He quickly looked away when Ramb noticed him staring. As he turned and began to walk away, Ramb waved him goodbye and said, "Goodnight, greenie~"

Bastard.

Ramb wasn't a flirt or a charmer; he was a bastard.

"Goodnight, Pluey. See you tomorrow!"

"🎷( >3< )" Pluey said goodbye and waved at Battat, before blowing a kiss the pippins' way as they made a little kissy sound.

They then walked away, leaving a very green-in-the-face Battat alone in the green room. Battat blinked, trying to process what had just happened, as it walked over to the bar. Upon looking up and seeing the closed bar, it remembered what Ramb had told it last night. Shaking its head to clear its thoughts, it sighed and made its way to the backstage game controller room. Just as Ramb said, no one was there to notice Battat sneak its way through the door that was supposed to be locked. Once it got inside the controller room, Battat looked around for Ramb and found him in the next room over with the game he was either working on already set up.

"Ah, there you are! Come, sit!" Ramb exclaimed as he noticed Battat.

Battat walked over to him and sat down on the soft cushion Ramb had supplied for the two of them, as it said, "Yeah, sorry I got caught up with Pluey. They can actually be real talkative when they want to be, believe it or not..."

"Oh, they can, huh?" Ramb chuckled and gave the green pippins a knowing smirk and a teasing poke.

Battat blushed, elbowed him softly, and mumbled, "Shut up, not another word and them or Jongler... Just show me your stupid game, already..."

Ramb laughed, turned back to the game screen, and nodded, "Alright, mate... So, I've already set up the game exactly as I had when I last saw that cat thing. And I think I saw it when I went in here. Soo..."

He pointed to the screen, and Battat looked up to see the side of a pixelated pyramid with a door leading inside. Ramb directed the little character, which looked an awful lot like Kris now that Battat looked at it, into the room. The two of them sat in silence as Ramb moved the little Kris around the empty, black room. For a moment, Battat thought nothing would happen, and just when it was about to say something, it happened. Two little eyes, one yellow and one pink, appeared in the middle of the room before immediately disappearing.

Battat gasped in surprise, and Ramb leaned forward as he said, "Huh... It’s only showing its eyes...?"

They both couldn't look away as Ramb directed the little Kris character out of the room and to the other side of the pyramid. There was another door on that side, hidden behind a row of trees that Ramb easily cut down with the sword Kris was holding. This room looked exactly the same as the other one and, once again, Ramb and Battat sat there until something happened. This time, only the creature's smile appeared in the room. Ramb made a little confused sound as he leaned back.

"It didn't do that last time... I... I saw the whole thing last time, eyes and that creepy little smile... Why did it change?" Ramb mumbled, utterly confused.

Battat stared at him, unsure what to say other than, "It changed? But didn't you set this game up? Didn't you make this?"

Ramb turned to look at Battat and hesitated before nodding, "I-I did, but I didn't set this part up. I didn't even know what the cat thing was until I saw it, until you drew it yesterday and showed me it wasn't my imagination. I have no idea why it's in my game. I haven't seen it in that damn crystal either—"

Suddenly, Ramb shut his mouth, looking like a deer in headlights—looking like he's said too much.

Crystal? What crystal? What did Ramb mean by that? Why would a crystal show him something like that? The only crystals Battat had seen were fake ones sold in the stores of Cyber City as jewellery.

Battat opened his mouth to ask what Ramb meant, but was interrupted by a sudden, loud, scratching sound coming from the game. Both of their heads snapped to the screen, and what they saw caused Ramb to drop the yellow and pink controller he was holding.

On the screen, taking up most of it, was the creature Battat had seen two days ago. It didn't immediately disappear; instead, it stayed long enough for them to get a good look at it. It looked different from the way it had when Battat last saw it. Its tail was more like a tabby cat's, with pink and yellow stripes. Its body was still an amorphous blob, but it seemed as if there were little white cat-like shapes inside its body. On its... neck? Was a pink collar with a small piece of gold in the middle, similar to some lucky cat figurines, Battat had seen one store in Cyber City selling.

After a few seconds, it finally did something. Its smile grew impossibly wide, and it waved at them before disappearing. Then, without Ramb's input, the game and the screen flickered off, leaving the two of them in near complete darkness. The only light was a small sliver from the S-Rank Changing room lights outside. Ramb and Battat's eyes met in the dim light, and there was no doubting the fearful expression in Ramb's eyes. Whatever just happened wasn't some cruel prank or a joke that Ramb was pulling on Battat; that was real.

Without a word, the two of them got up and ran out of the room. They rushed past the S-Rank room and eventually found their way to a quiet hallway in TV world. Once they were a sufficient distance away from the S-Rank room, Battat leaned on the nearby wall and tried to catch his breath while Ramb leaned over, doing the same.

"I... I think your game is cursed, Ramb..." Battat huffed, trying to both calm himself down and lighten the mood a little, even though he knew he really sucked at doing both things.

Ramb gave a small, slightly distraught laugh and ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, mate... Obviously. What the fuck..."

As they began to calm down and gather their breath, Battat remembered what Ramb had been talking about right before the creature had interrupted them. He remembered the deer-in-headlights look on Ramb's face and, despite his better judgement, knew he had to ask what Ramb meant. 

"What did you mean earlier when you said you hadn't seen... that thing in the crystal?"

Ramb looked away with a grimace, before he sighed and stood up, "It's... not something we should talk about here. If I'm gonna tell you, we need to go somewhere... private."

Battat didn't like the tone of Ramb's voice, but well...

"I know a place we can talk. Follow me."

You know what they say about curiosity and the cat.

Chapter Text

"So, it only shows you one image per day?"

"Yes, and sometimes it depends on the location as well. I'm not sure why..." Ramb mumbled as he turned the small, clear shard around carefully in his hand.

Battat stared at it in awe. It was small enough to hide in the palm of a hand, but it emitted a powerful energy that Battat could feel from his place at his desk in the Mike room—or Battat's conspiracy room, as Jongler liked to call it. There was a gnawing urge deep in Battat's soul, begging him to look through the glass. He was finding it hard to just sit there. It was almost painful how badly he wanted to hold the crystal, to keep it close to himself. His hands subconsciously reached for it before Ramb cautiously pulled it toward his chest.

Battat mentally shook himself and asked, "And, you said it showed you something about yourself? Something about you in the future?"

Ramb nodded, "Kind of, at least I think it was me. It showed me what role I play in the whole prophecy thing. I saw that quite early on... It also told me of others' roles in the story, told me about a few darkners I know and some I used to know..."

"Whoa... What did it say about you?"

He looked away with an unreadable expression, "Let's just say, I, in some way, will help aid the heroes by giving them an item to aid in their struggle against the darkness. Not even sure if it was really me, since I didn't exactly look like myself... But I can't help but feel like it was supposed to be me, though... It's nothing special..."

Battat blinked in confusion. Ramb saw himself in the prophecy, but he didn't look like himself. What else would he look like? Battat hadn't seen Ramb look like anything other than himself. Is this what he meant when he implied he knew what having two identities felt like? Knowing that you have a different identity even before you understood why? Battat couldn't tell. Ramb was being incredibly vague with his explanation.

What else had it shown Ramb?

Who, of those Ramb knew, could possibly be important in the future?

"Are you sure about this, luv? Are you sure you want to get into this whole future vision business? The information it speaks of is... hard to handle. Trust me, I should know. It's... a heavy burden. I would understand completely if you wanted no part in this whole thing..." Ramb murmured, casting his head to the side.

Battat pried his eyes away from the crystal, ignoring the heavy urge in his soul to gaze into its clear surface again, and nodded, "I'm sure, Ramb. I can see that this whole crystal thing has affected you. I'm not sure what's going on here, or why a crystal has information about the future, and I know we aren't all that close. That being said, I consider you a friend... or something along those lines. I wanna help, if I can..." Feeling a little too vulnerable for his own liking, Battat then playfully added, "'Sides, I'm in too deep to back out now, aren't I? C'mon, already, hand it over!"

Ramb laughed softly as he rolled his eyes, "Fine... Just— Don't say I didn't warn you."

Then, he placed the shard in Battat's hands as gently as he could. Despite how small and light it was, it felt heavy in Battat's hands. Ramb leaned over the pippin's shoulder as Battat lifted it and held it at eye level. Peering through the glass, he saw a small image reflected back at him. The crystal displayed a small blue panel of a castle with a dark fountain flowing proudly behind it. Above it were words. Words that spoke about the prophecy of their world, the Delta Rune.

The prophecy, which whispers among the shadows.

"Whoa... I knew you said prophecy, but I didn't realize it told you the exact words of it! I thought it was lost to time..." Battat exclaimed, pulling the crystal away and turning to look at Ramb.

"It reset for you...? Huh..." Ramb shook his head and continued, "Uh, yes. Yes, it does. It also sometimes shows me random future events that aren't related to the prophecy itself. Apparently, it's on a person-by-person basis, though, considering I've already seen that panel."

Ramb unconsciously reached up and grabbed the opposite side of the crystal from Battat. The image changed before their very eyes. Now the shard of glass showed a different image than before. There was a picture of Ramb and Battat hanging out together at the bar, with Ramb laughing and Battat staring down at the table. Battat could see a green flush on his face and a similar orange one on Ramb's before Ramb quickly let go of the crystal in embarrassment. The image swiftly morphed back to the prophecy panel, as Ramb awkwardly coughed into his hand. Battat looked down, trying to get the second image out of his head.

"S-See what I mean...?" Ramb said, with a small, tentative laugh.

Battat nodded as he tried to relax and push the image away before he asked, "Uh, so how long have you had this thing? What— How much have you seen?"

"Ah... Too much, if I'm honest, luv..." Ramb gave a humourless laugh before deflating slightly, "...I found it about a month ago and haven't been able to put it down since... If you're really serious about helping me with this whole thing, I could catch you up on what I know?"

Battat nodded frantically, desperate to know what secrets the crystal held, both for his own sense of curiosity and to help lessen Ramb's burden. After a moment, Ramb began to explain what he had learned over the last month. Battat listened as he went over the small, non-important stuff before he began to divulge the more serious, prophecy-related information. The more he went on, the worse it got. Battat clung to every word Ramb said. He listened to the tale of light and dark, of a countdown to the earth's expire, of titans and a terrible calamity. He listened to the tale of three heroes of everyone's hopes and dreams, appearing at world's end to save them all.

The exact words of the prophecy had been lost to time and space, and maybe that was for the better. It was concerning what Ramb spoke of, to say the least. Worst of all, there was more to come. The story hadn't fully unravelled yet. There was more to learn, more of the prophecy that hadn't been seen yet. Who knew how much worse it could get if it was worrisome already? What more could be foretold? What would happen at the end of the tale? Would the heroes prevail? Would they fail? Would everyone be saved? Or were they destined to fall into darkness and turn to stone, leaving the lightners to fend for themselves?

No one knew, and that was the most terrifying thing of all.

"That's..." Battat breathed before trailing off.

How had Ramb kept all of this information to himself? How was he even holding up? Battat had only heard a small sliver of it, and he was already freaking out. He couldn't imagine how awful and paranoid Ramb must have been for the last month. Battat knew he was an overly paranoid darkner and knew he had a tendency to overthink, but this was a lot to deal with, especially alone.

Ramb chuckled without any real effort in it and placed a hand on Battat's shoulder. "Told you it was a lot. And it's not even completed yet. Who knows what else it'll reveal next, eh, luv?"

Battat looked away, "...You kept it all to yourself for so long... How are you even holding up? A-Are you okay?"

He blinked in surprise before smiling softly, "I... I am. Mostly..." The pippins gave him a knowing look, similar to one Ramb would often give to him whenever he ordered one too many coffees in a single day. The plugboy sheepishly looked away. "R-Really! It's not- I'm not- I'm holding up just fine, luv. I have my days, sure, but they're nothing I can't handle... nothing I haven't dealt with already... So, don't worry about me, okay? I can deal with the bad days just fine..."

"Listen... I know I'm not exactly the healthiest darkner alive either, but... I don't buy that... You don't have to deal with... all of that alone anymore, okay? I want to help. Because I care about you..." Battat reassured, feeling a little awkward about being so open with his feelings. He slowly, feeling like he was out of his depth at this point, grabbed Ramb's wrist, which was still on his shoulder. "You can... talk to me, if you're having a bad day, or whatever, okay? I've been told I'm a good listener... It's part of my job as a 'Mike', after all..."

Ramb laughed at his attempt at a joke and visibly softened, "I'll keep that in mind... Thank you, Battat."

Battat smiled, "No problem. Any time, Ramb. Any time..."

"And, then, he told me to leave, even though he just begged me not to a moment before!! The man makes no sense; I swear I'm gonna lose my mind!!" Battat rambled, throwing his arms out, careful not to hit Jongler, who was sitting beside him.

Jongler, Pluey, and Battat had been hanging out at Ramb's bar, talking and joking with him for the last few hours after their shifts as Mike. It was getting quite late, and the three of them were the only ones in the green room now, aside from Ramb himself. It was almost time for them all to go home, or in Battat's case, sneak into the Mike room to work on the conspiracy board in secret again. Battat had just finished ranting about working for Tenna, having to listen to his sometimes contradictory statements and figure out what he actually wanted from him.

Once everyone stopped laughing and calmed down, Jongler hopped off the barstool they were sitting on and said, "Dat was fun, but I's getting tired nows. So, I's gonna gets going. Haves a good night, youes three!"

Pluey got up as well and placed a hand on Battat's shoulder. They gave him a brief hug before pulling away and smiling at him, and then they waved while saying their goodbyes, "👋 (≧﹏≦) " 

"Alright, have a good night, you two! I'll see you two tomorrow, then," Battat mumbled.

As the two of them left, Battat turned around with a love-stricken expression that quickly shattered upon hearing a soft, teasing giggle from nearby. Ramb was standing in front of him, cleaning a small stain on the bar top and watching Pluey and Jongler walk away before turning to Battat with a smirk. The pippins glared at the plugboy before he could say a word and pointed a finger at him in warning. Though Ramb never felt intimidated by Battat, so he knowingly pushed on with what he was going to say regardless. "You really love 'em, don't ya?"

Battat flushed bright green as his resolve crumbled. He quickly told Ramb to "Shut up," before folding his arms, laying his head down on the bar top, and hiding his flushed face from view. He heard Ramb giggle again, though interestingly, it was a higher pitch than his usual tone. It wasn't the first time he heard this higher-pitched laugh, but it was still rare and interesting, despite how Battat currently felt about the darkner. He swiftly flipped Ramb off and grumbled to himself about how much of a bastard the plugboy was.

"Well, it's a good thing they clearly like you back, then, huh?" Ramb continued, his smirk growing wider as Battat suddenly sat up straight and blinked at him with wide eyes.

Battat stuttered, "N-No, they don't! T-They don't like me, Ramb, they obviously like each other. I mean, they are together so... They wouldn't- They wouldn't have a crush on some random outcast pippins like me..." After trailing off and staring at the floor for a few minutes, he nervously added, "W-Why do you even say that...? How can you even tell that they- that they, uh, ya know?"

Ramb looked visibly surprised by his question, "You—" He relaxed and laughed softly, sharp little fangs poking out for a moment that instantly caught Battat's attention and had him staring. There was no malice in Ramb's tone as he playfully poked Battat and finished his sentence, "—are extremely oblivious, aren't ya, luv?"

Embarrassed, the pippins flushed and huffed, then, trying to take back what he said for fear of being far too unguarded emotionally for his own liking, mumbled, "N-Never mind, forgot I even said anyth—"

However, the plugboy was faster than he was, "Hey, hey, relax, I was just messing with you, Batts. As for an answer to your question... I can tell they like you by the way they look at you and the way they act around you. It's just very obvious, to everyone, honestly."

Battat pierced his lips together in slight annoyance at the plugboy's teasing. After a few more beats of silence, he decided to let himself be a little vulnerable again as he asked, "The way they look and act around me, huh?"

Ramb visibly softened, smiled, and nodded, "Yeah, it's total heart-eyes, luv. And don't even get me started on how clingy they are with you, constantly hugging and hanging on ya, constantly asking to spend time with ya. How they talk about you to me is also something. Trust me, Battat. It's reciprocated..."

There was something in his tone that Battat couldn't read, something in his eyes, too. Battat wasn't the best at reading others or understanding body language, facial expressions, or tone of voice. He hated small talk because of it, and thus sometimes hated dealing with Tenna because of it as well—the man could flip on a dime without warning, it was tiring. Battat always felt like he was doing something wrong when it came to social cues, and he was feeling that way right now. There was something off about how Ramb was talking, but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't decipher what was off about Ramb's expression. If he didn't know any better, he'd said he saw a flicker of hope in Ramb's eyes.

Luckily, he definitely knew better...

After failing to figure it out, he hummed and muttered, "Huh... Okay, uh, thanks, I guess..."

The two of them fell into a somewhat uncomfortable silence. The air crackled with unspoken tension, and it only made Battat want to speak more, despite not knowing what to say. Thankfully, Ramb spoke up before he had the chance to say something stupid and make the awkward moment even worse, like he was prone to doing, "So, have you always been this oblivious with love, or is it just a 'Jongler and Pluey thing'?"

Battat glared at him, "I— You— I'm not answering that!"

Ramb laughed at that, another strange spark of hope—something, not hope, it wasn't hope—in his eyes as he murmured, "Hm, I'll take that as proof of the former, then?"

When Battat said nothing and just sat there, flustered, Ramb nodded to himself with another soft chuckle. His laugh was a stupidly nice sound, one that Battat had heard a lot due to being a regular of Ramb's bar. He sort of wanted to hear it more often. And he sort of wanted to see that stupid, knowing smirk of his more often as well. Those sharp teeth were intriguing as well. Ramb was unfortunately kind of cute—

Wait, what?

...Cute? Cute!

What was wrong with him?!

Cute?! 

Battat blinked at the thought before flushing harder and looking down at his coffee cup, for fear of catching Ramb's eyes and embarrassing himself even more. He was suddenly plagued with an image of the shadow crystal, and it reminded him of the future event it had displayed when Ramb had grabbed the other side of the shard. The image of him and Ramb at the bar, the image of the two of them both flushed with colour. He tentatively glanced up, just to check, and saw a small orange glow on Ramb's face before he swiftly cast his gaze away again.

Damn Ramb.

Damn Battat's own horrible mind.

And most of all, damn that stupid, dumb crystal.

"You sure it won't show your 'second form', or whatever, again?" Battat hummed as he held the shadow crystal in his hand, not yet looking through the glass to see its daily prophecy.

Ramb rolled their eyes, "Yes, I'm sure, luv. You already know how the damn thing works. You know it only shows what it wants to..."

Battat huffed and asked, "Why don't you draw it then? You always have that notepad and pen on you for taking orders, don'tcha?"

"Why do you wanna see it so bad? It's not that interesting..." Ramb looked away, slightly flustered.

The pippins shrugged, "I don't know, I'm curious. You know me... Look, you don't even have to draw it perfectly or whatever. I'm not looking for art skills here, I mean, remember my drawing of that cat demon thingy. Total piece of shit, yet you didn't mind. C'mon..."

After a moment, Ramb sighed, "Fine..."

They took out their notepad and began to sketch out a picture. Battat waited patiently, despite the glaring, shiny crystal of knowledge in his hands. His soul wanted nothing more than to peer into the glass and see, but he could wait. Ramb and him had made a whole deal of them sharing the crystal. They would look at it together with Ramb holding onto it, so it would show the most recent one instead of repeating what they both already knew—that way, both of them could be surprised by whatever prophecy was foretold.

Finally, Ramb finished their drawing and tentatively held the notepad out for Battat to grab. They wordlessly switched objects, Ramb now holding the crystal, and Battat the notepad. On the paper in front of Battat was a small, shadowy creature. It had a wide smile with two sharp, vampire-esque teeth and two horns atop its head—or if this was really supposed to be Ramb in the future, he supposed they were Ramb's dog ears pointing up rather than folded over themselves like they usually were. The creature was also wearing a tattered cape that covered its entire body.

"Huh..." Battat mumbled as he stared at the drawing.

"Yeah, I know. It doesn't look like me at all, but... I just can't explain it, but it felt like me when I first looked at it... It still does. It might not be, but I just can't shake the feeling it's me..." Ramb leaned forward, feet dangling off the bed.

The two of them were in the Mike room, which had a large bed for temporary naps in case of emergencies. Ramb was sitting atop the bed while Battat sat cross-legged on the floor—he felt more comfortable there anyway. The room was a good size, with enough space for a desk, a couch, and a few other things, like a dressing curtain. It also had a door with locks that worked from both sides, just in case Tenna decided to pop over to "Mike's" room on a whim. They could leave and lock the door without worry, as well as lock it while they were inside.

Battat quickly glanced at the door to the Mike room, ensuring it was still locked. He was pretty sure he had locked it when he brought Ramb here earlier, but he could never be sure, and that made him anxious. He always worried about whether or not he had locked the door both when inside the room and at home. Even though it was far too late at night for Tenna to check on "Mike", his mind still ran rampant with worry and compulsions, and he desperately wanted to quickly go check the door, but he didn't want to leave Ramb and the crystal.

He resisted the urge to get up and check as he turned to Ramb and said, "Alright, let's see what the crystal says today already..."

Battat then stood up and sat next to Ramb on the bed. Once he was situated properly, Ramb held the crystal up and they both watched as a small blue image reflected in the nearly invisible glass. The figure was simple; it was a long string of shimmering blue circles arranged in an "S" shape. The text above it read, "They'll see the tail of hell take crawl." The two stared at the crystal in silence, processing the prophecy, before a realization dawned on Battat.

"W-Wait... The tail of hell? Ramb." He turned to the plugboy with a frantic expression. "Doesn't that image look familiar to you?"

Ramb turned their head in confusion, before their expression shifted to one of horror, "The cat demon..."

"It- It can't be a coincidence, right? That thing's tail was made entirely of circles except for the pointy bit at the end..." Battat muttered to himself as he stood up and began to pace unconsciously.

The purple-haired plugboy was quiet for a moment before saying, "Well, why would it show itself to us if it was in the prophecy? What does it want us to know? And what does it mean about the tail being from 'hell' and 'taking crawl'...?"

Battat stopped pacing and hummed in thought, "I'm not sure, but it certainly doesn't sound like a good thing..." He subconsciously walked over to the conspiracy board and stared at it. "We need to get our facts straight... What if we made our own board for this stuff... I, uh, have a spare one at home. I could bring it here... Or we could just go to m-my place and think about this... Might be helpful..."

Ramb stood up and nodded, "Yeah, I think you're right. It would be good to jot this stuff down, that way we can try to make sense of it all..."

"Yeah..."

"Lead the way?"

Ramb and Battat had only been sharing the shadow crystal for a few days, but that didn't matter.

It was all they needed to be changed. All they needed to go mad, just like the others—though, only a tad similar. A conspiracy board, loose papers, pictures and notes, all tied together with tight red strings. Two minds cracked, but not yet shattered. Two distinct psyches, forever altered by the reality of their meaningless lives. Two individuals in tandem changed by the knowledge gained. Two lives forced together, for fun, for an Angel's entertainment, entangled. Two individuals' purposes shifted by the one ruling over it all.

Were they changed for the better or for the worse?

One couldn't be sure.

Though their story didn't end this way—not here, at least. Not in this world. Perhaps in another, it could've ended that way. They could've gone mad with power, mad with knowledge. Maybe they would've been spared from their fate. Maybe they wouldn't have. Perhaps they refused to accept their freedom and tried to make their own kind of freedom. What if they dug too deep, sought out too much? What if they dug a hole for themselves so vast and so deep, they could no longer climb up anymore? There were so many branching paths a story could diverge from. Alternative dimensions, alternative universes. The Trickle Down effect. The Butterfly Effect. Every choice hid a new path, a different route.

Those ideas were indeed very, very interesting...

Yet, it just wasn't meant to be.

Ramb and Battat had only been sharing the shadow crystal for a few days, but that didn't matter...

For the crystal was gone.

Ramb had searched high and low for it, tearing his studio apartment apart—tearing his world open. Chaos, chaos! His world revolved around that shadow crystal for months. What was he supposed to do without it? Battat had gotten wrapped up in his situation. He had trusted Ramb to keep the shard of glass safe. They had been figuring it out, piece by piece. What were they both without it? Would they still be...? His purpose, his place in the tale, what would become of that? Why had it been stripped from him now? Why had fate or the Angel or whatever ruled over it all given him such a purpose in one minute, only to take it away the next?

Had the Angel forsaken him?

Battat had helped him search the bar, his place, and TV World as a whole, desperate to gain back that freedom—desperate to earn the Angel's favour once more. Yet, nothing. No trace of theft or foul play. There was almost no evidence of the shadow crystal's existence at all, aside from their own memories. That was until Battat noticed something etched into the wood of Ramb's nightstand; it took up the whole surface, leaving no corner of wood untouched. He didn't even read it before calling out to the other, grabbing Ramb's attention and drawing him near.

All that remained in the shadow crystal's place was a note, carved by sharpened blade, that simply read:

I see how it is.

You forfeit your place in this little tale?

You forfeit your place by selfishly sharing that which is forbidden?

By sharing with those unworthy?

By sharing with those not chosen?

Trying to figure out the story, instead of living it?

Trying to hear the ending, tell the tale before it's yet been finished?

How sad...

How unfortunate...

That knowledge wasn't yours to see, little dice.

That knowledge wasn't yours to share, dear crystal holder.

Former crystal holder, I should say.

Former friend, I should say.

What a pity, lightning bolt!

What a shame, sparkplug!

You had such a secure spot, as well...

You had such wonderful potential...

Better luck next time, I suppose!

:)

...

The crystal was gone...

And Ramb no longer had a purpose.